


Heart of Darkness

by DizzyDrea



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Trust Issues, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26207131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyDrea/pseuds/DizzyDrea
Summary: Steve Rogers wakes up in 2012 surprised he'd survived the plane crash. He isn't the only one who's surprised.
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Tony Stark
Kudos: 22
Collections: Just Write! Trope Bingo





	Heart of Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been rattling around in my head for a while, so I'm glad I've finally gotten to write and post it. I seem to like looking at Steve Rogers' transformation from a lot of different angles, especially how it changes what happens when he wakes up in 2012. Plus, I really love the vampire trope, so I figured I'd get around to it eventually. Enjoy!
> 
> For the _Canon Divergence_ square on my Trope Bingo card from the Just Write Discord.
> 
> Disclaimer: Captain America and The Avengers and all their particulars are the property of Marvel Studios, Walt Disney Studios, and a lot of other people who aren't me. I am doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

~o~

Steve Rogers came awake slowly, aware that he wasn't where he expected to be.

His last memory was of the plane going down in the Arctic. He'd known there was no escape and no rescue, so he'd simply lain down with his shield and… gone to sleep.

He never expected to wake up.

Now, though, he was most definitely awake. He could hear the sounds of a baseball game through the speaker of a radio, but as he listened, he found something familiar about it. Just a few seconds more and he knew: he'd been to that game, remembered it vividly.

Suspicious now, he focused on his hearing, extending out beyond the sounds of the game. He heard heartbeats, hundreds of them, calm and steady as they went about their business. Footsteps, breathing, the rustle of clothing and papers being shuffled, he heard it all. Beyond that, there was an undercurrent of air moving about. Further out, the sounds of traffic filtered in. Horns honking and tires squealing, people shouting, and the sounds of thousands of people going about their day.

New York, he'd bet on it. He knew the sounds of his home town like he knew the sound of his own heart beating in his chest.

He pulled his hearing back and took a deep breath, his first in this new place. Smells assaulted him, some familiar and some not. Antiseptic, detergent, perfume, hairspray, rubber, fresh linen, grease. All recognizable and yet different somehow. 

When he finally opened his eyes, he saw a room like any other. Curtains billowing in the breeze, the radio sitting on top of a dresser. Except, the sun filtering in through the window gave no heat, and the sounds of traffic were too blunt to be just outside the window.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong with all of it.

He could hear the sound of footsteps outside the door. Light and echoing, likely made by a woman. The doorknob rattled as it turned, and Steve waited to see who would come through the door.

She was young. Red hair and rich, blue eyes. Her uniform was what he'd expect from the 1940s, but he was pretty sure it wasn't actually the 1940s anymore. The baseball game sort of gave that away, even if the smells and sights were almost right.

This close, he could smell her curiosity. She stepped into the room, watching him even as he watched her from slitted eyes. 

"Captain Rogers?" she asked quietly. 

If he'd been asleep, her voice wouldn't have woken him. As it was, he could hear her as though she were shouting.

He sat up, then leaped from the bed, pinning her to the wall. "Where am I?"

"Y-you're in New York," she stammered out.

This close, he could smell her fear. It was… delicious, but he tried not to let that sidetrack him. There would be time to indulge his baser instincts once he figured out what was going on.

"Now, this is very important," he said quietly, directly into her ear so she could feel his breath on her skin. It elicited a shiver from her, which made him smile. "What year is it?"

"It-it's 19-"

He pressed her more firmly into the wall. "Careful. I want to know the actual year, not whatever your superiors have told you to tell me."

"2012," she said, her fear spiking. "It's 2012. You were frozen in the ice for nearly seventy years."

He pulled back to look at her, assessing whether or not she was telling the truth. There was still a scent of fear in the air, but her face showed only her worry and not any deception. She was telling the truth, or at least a truth she believed. He let the shock of that ripple through him. He'd missed seventy years.

Anger swelled up inside him. He'd missed so much. Missed the end of the war. Missed dancing with Peggy. Missed the life he should have had. 

He refocused on the woman he had pinned to the wall. It wasn't her fault. Any of it. And yet, she was fully participating in the deception they'd planned for him. The fury of that nearly overwhelmed him, and almost without thought, he lowered his mouth to her neck, his fangs descending to graze the pristine white skin.

She took a startled breath as his fangs penetrated the skin, blood rushing up and welling in his mouth as he sucked hard. He was so hungry, but he knew he couldn't drain this poor girl. He pulled back long before he wanted to, licking the skin of her neck to seal the wound.

She sagged in his arms, weak from the blood loss. He scooped her up and laid her gently on the bed, straightening her clothes to preserve her modesty. Then, fury still roiling his gut, he headed out the door.

The room he'd been in wasn't, as it turned out, part of a hospital or a barracks building. It was just a room, built in the middle of what looked like a warehouse. The first few people he passed stared at him as if he were an alien. They looked like office types, completely harmless, but still, Steve's instincts hammered at him to attack.

He shoved that instinct down and kept moving. The first resistance he met was from someone who looked like a soldier but was dressed all in black. The man moved toward him aggressively, pointing his gun at Steve and shouting for him to stop, so Steve grabbed him, spun him around, and bit into his neck, sucking mouthfuls of blood from his victim. 

When he'd had his fill, he snapped the man's neck and let him drop to the ground. The next man to come at him had his arm broken as he resisted. Steve latched on to his neck as well, gulping down his blood before licking his neck and letting him fall to the ground.

Feeling flush with warmth, and stronger now that he'd fed, he was able to dispatch the next few men to come at him without causing them too much harm. He simply tossed them aside as he moved through the building. Once out on the street, he clapped his hands over his ears as he adjusted to the sheer amount of noise he was hearing.

2012 was entirely too noisy for his comfort. It was also bright and busy in a way that the New York of his memory had never been. He spun in a circle, looking out at a sea of cars and bright flashing lights all around him.

"Captain," a voice cut through the din.

Steve spun around and looked at the man that had gained his attention. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark skin and an eye patch. Definitely a soldier underneath the unusual exterior.

"Who are you?" Steve asked. He wiped at his face, his hand coming back bloody as he wiped away the evidence of his feeding.

"I'm Director Fury of SHIELD," the man said. "The world has changed a lot since you've been gone. It seems like maybe you've changed too."

Steve held up the hand smeared with blood. "Not as much as you might think."

Fury frowned at him. "Come with me, son. We need to talk."

Steve scented the air. Fury radiated deception, but it had been a long time since a human could pull the wool over his eyes, so he wasn't worried. He followed Fury to a large vehicle and allowed the man to chivvy him inside. They drove across town to a shiny high rise. He followed Fury and the guards he'd had with him to a conference room near the top of the building.

They all gave him the side-eye as they rode up in the elevator car. Steve didn't need to imagine what they thought of him. Their fear permeated the car, but instead of being nauseating, it was titillating. Far from being ashamed of his reaction, he was amused. He'd long since made peace with who and what he'd become. It remained to be seen if these men could as well.

Fury settled into a seat at the head of the table and regarded Steve with curious eyes.

"You want to tell me what the hell that was back there?"

"That was me reacting poorly to your deception," Steve said. He settled into a chair at the other end of the table. "For the record, I hate being lied to. And since I can smell the deception, there's no point in doing it."

"May I ask what you are?" Fury asked, barely even acknowledging Steve's admonishment.

"Don't you have Dr. Erskine's notes?" Steve asked.

"Interestingly, every bit of his research disappeared from his office the day after he died," Fury said. "The SSR tried for years to find it with no luck. So, I'll ask again. What are you?"

"You know what I am," Steve said. When Fury simply stared at him, Steve huffed. The man certainly liked playing his little power games. "I'm exactly what you think I am. I'm a vampire, Director Fury."

"There's no such thing as vampires," Fury said.

"Clearly your information is wrong," Steve said. He leaned back in his chair, licking his lips and savoring the blood he still found there. "Or have you stopped believing your own eyes?"

"Why did you kill my man?" Fury asked. "We're the good guys. You had no reason to kill him."

"He came at me, intending to do me harm," Steve said.

"So, you bleed him dry, and then snap his neck just for effect?"

"As I said, he came at me with the intent to harm," Steve said. "I've never had a problem feeding on those who make themselves my enemy. And I didn't snap his neck on a whim. We learned early on that when I drained a man dry if I didn't snap his neck, we ran the risk of him waking up a vampire. You see, the longer I feed, the more of my venom gets into my… victim. I'd rather not be responsible for creating more like me."

Fury didn't say anything, just inclined his head in agreement.

Steve watched the man as he came to terms with this new information. Steve couldn't say he was surprised. It had taken him far longer to accept that he wasn't even human anymore. When he'd finally made peace with that fact, he'd understood why Erskine had been looking for a good man. Someone with lesser moral fiber would probably have taken advantage of being a vampire and gone on a killing spree.

Instead, Steve had vowed to only hunt and kill the enemy. Nazis were plentiful and none of the Howling Commandos had cared one way or another if he'd drained the whole German Army dry. He had a small bit of remorse for the man he'd killed this morning, but only a little bit. Given that he needed blood to survive, he'd learned a long time ago not to mourn those he killed, particularly when they made themselves his enemy.

"Can I trust you to control your impulses?" Fury finally asked. 

Steve raised an eyebrow. "I've never once killed anyone I considered an ally or a friend. I can't imagine I'll start now."

"Good," Fury said. "Because we could use an advantage like you. There are a lot of bad people in the world today, Captain."

There was a commotion outside the room they were in. Loud voices and a hint of anger in the air. Then the door burst open.

"That sounds familiar," a man Steve vaguely recognized said as he swanned in. He tossed a metal flask at Steve as he sauntered around the table and settled near Steve, kicking his feet up and affecting a casual air of disinterest, even if he was anything but. "Are you gonna tell him all about the enemies that SHIELD has made, and how you could use him to fight your battles? Kind of tacky, if you don't mind my saying. I mean, you obviously know what he's capable of, but don't you think you should give him time to acclimate first? Maybe get a shower?"

"Stark," Fury said, low and what he probably thought was dangerous. Steve got the impression that his new ally wasn't impressed.

"Stark," Steve said. "As in Howard Stark? Are you related?"

"Stark 2.0, at your service," he said. "But you can call me Tony. That's blood, by the way, Vlad. O-neg, which I hear is all the rage with you undead types."

Steve screwed the lid off the flask and sniffed. It was, indeed, O-negative blood. Sweet and tempting, and still faintly warm. So, a living donor. Blood willingly given was the most satisfying, he'd found. The feeling of generosity and contentment from the donor lingered in the life-giving fluid in such a way that he always felt a little drunk afterward.

"Stark, you weren't invited to this meeting," Fury said. Steve took a sip of the blood, leaned back in his chair, and just watched the by-play. He figured he'd learn a lot more if he just stayed quiet. "How did you even know he was here, for that matter?"

"Oh, a little birdie told me," Stark said, waving a hand negligently.

"And the blood?" Fury asked. He clearly didn't like being thwarted. Frustration rolled off him in waves at the necessity to pull every single detail out of Stark. Rarely had Steve been so amused.

"Considering that vampires live on blood—the fresher the better—I'm surprised you didn't have some on hand," Stark said. He snapped his fingers, pointing at Fury. "Oh, yeah, that's right. You didn't have Erskine's notes, so you didn't even know he was a vampire. Shame, that. Losing all that research. Not a good look for a security agency."

"I'm not sure where you get your information, Stark," Fury said. "We know everything we need to know about Captain Rogers."

"Except for the part where you tried to fool me into thinking it was 1945," Steve said. He licked his lips as he set down the flask. "Excellent, by the way. My compliments to the donor."

"I'll let her know," Stark said. "As for where I get my information, I got it directly from Erskine's notes. He left them to my father, who left them to me, with the understanding that I would do everything in my power to assist the Captain in whatever way I could once he was found."

"How could you possibly know he'd be found alive," Fury said, scowling. "We didn't even know he'd be alive."

"Then you're an idiot," Stark said bluntly. "He's a vampire. Of course, he was going to survive the plane crash. Oh, wait, that's right. You didn't know that Erskine's Super Soldier Serum was, in fact, vampire blood."

Fury took a deep breath and refocused on Steve. "Captain Rogers, when you're ready, we should talk about your future assignments. Given the advantage that your unique physiology presents, I think we have some assignments that would be right up your alley."

"Forgive me, Director, but I'll have to decline for now," Steve said. When Fury looked set to argue, Steve held up a hand to forestall him. "I'm not prepared to go to work for an agency that tried to deceive me into believing that no time had passed from when I went into the ice. And until I understand the world and its players today, I'd rather not jump into the middle of a conflict I might be making worse just by being there."

"Excellent thinking," Stark said. He stood up and gave Fury a long look before he turned to Steve. "You're welcome to join me. I have a suite already for you, and a supply of blood that's fresh and willingly-given. Oh, and an AI that's eager to show you the world you've missed."

"The suite and the blood sound good," Steve said, standing up. "Not sure what an AI is, but if it'll help me learn about the world, I'll take it. Seems like I've missed a lot."

"Probably not as much as you think," Stark said. "Come on. I have a huge mansion that I rattle around in. It'll be nice to have a roommate."

"Captain—"

Steve turned and pinned Fury with a hard look that caused the man to sit back in surprise. "I would appreciate it if you would leave me be. I'll let you know when I'm ready to talk."

Fury didn't look happy, but he also didn't try to stop Steve from leaving, which was good. He hadn't lied before: he'd attack anyone who made themselves his enemy, and that included purported allies.

"I've just got one question for you, Capsicle," Stark said as the left the room. "Do you sparkle?"

~Finis


End file.
